The Importance of Catching Earnest
by Velkyn
Summary: An Alexis Finch story. It appears that Lupin is in England in order to steal the Finch family's most precious possession. Who can be trusted? And can Alexis survive a visit to her family without going mad? Language, suggestive situations. [JigenxOC OCxOC]
1. Wakeup Call

-This is a work of fiction based on characters created by Monkey Punch (Kazuhiko Kato). It is drama/action/romance with a hint of lemon. Rated T for language and sexual situations. Lupin, Jigen, Fujiko, and Zenigata are © Monkey Punch, and are used without permission. This work is written purely for entertainment value. Please don't sue me.-

-This is a sequel to The Sound of Her Breathing, but will also stand alone. Special thanks go to Berke Breathed for the earlobes that resemble fishheads.-

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The Importance of Catching Earnest  
by Elisabeth Henry

Alexis Finch woke from a dead sleep and groped around on the bedside table for the phone. It was very, very loud. Or perhaps she'd just had too much to drink the night before. Her hand connected with the receiver, knocking it onto the floor. After another moment or two, she managed to find it and bring it up to her ear.

"H'lo?" she mumbled, her head still half-buried in the pillow.

"Wake up, Alexis."

Alexis was awake. Instantly. She sat up quickly.

"Mother?" she said. "How did you get this number?"

Her mother ignored the question. "Your father's had a heart attack."

Alexis reached for her cigarettes and fumbled one out of the pack. Her lighter flared in the darkness of the hotel room. "And this affects me how, exactly?" she muttered into the phone.

"Alexis!" Her mother sounded scandalised.

"All right, mother." Alexis sighed. She rested her forearms on her knees and savoured the sharp taste of the tobacco. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Why, you're to come home, of course." Her mother's voice was crisp, and brooked no argument. "I've contacted Stephen, and he should be flying in from Sri Lanka any day now."

Alexis rolled her eyes at her mother's naïveté. Stephen hadn't been back to The Hawthorns - he blasphemously referred to it as the Crown of Thorns, when he spoke of it at all - since the day he left home. He was always good at putting off their mother, though. Alexis wished she had the same skill. Still, she made the effort.

"Mother, things are terribly busy in Vancouver just now, and I -"

Her mother's voice came down the wire, crackling with impatience. "Nothing is more important than your father's health," she said primly. "We must show solidarity, and..."

Alexis stopped listening to the words, and just waited for the song to end. Her mother frequently went on about the family, and how important it was to be a cohesive unit, and how their father was the most important thing, blah blah blah, world without end. Alexis had learned years ago that the only way to keep from going mad was to tune it out and just nod and smile until the lecture was over.

"All right, mother," she said, her voice heavy with resignation. She looked at the glowing clock on the bedside table. It read 3.56, and Alexis groaned softly. "I'll catch the first flight out in the morning." It would be a very long flight, but at least she'd be tired enough to sleep for the duration. She certainly wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight, that much was certain. "I'll call you from Heathrow."

"Good," her mother said. "Gordon will be there with the car."

Alexis considered telling her mother that she was an adult, and could get to The Hawthorns on her own, but it would have been pointless. Instead, she nodded and smiled, though her mother couldn't see her.

"Yes, mother," she said. "Goodbye, mother." Alexis hung up the phone and leaned back against the headboard. "Sod off, mother," she muttered to herself, taking a long pull on her cigarette. She'd lied, of course; the only thing on her schedule was a class at a local cooking academy, but the school had a Belgian campus. It could wait until she returned to the continent.

Which would, Alexis decided as she extinguished her cigarette in the cheap hotel ashtray, be shortly after she arrived in England. She didn't like the Isles, and she didn't like The Hawthorns. And she most definitely did not like her family. With any luck, she'd be able to offer her condolences and then bugger off back to Brussels.

Alexis rolled out of bed and started packing. In less than three hours, she'd be flying out of Canada and back to old Blighty.


	2. The Hawthorns

At one o'clock the next morning, Greenwich Mean Time, Alexis dragged herself off the plane and into Terminal 3 at Heathrow. She pulled her cell phone from her satchel and rang The Hawthorns. It would serve her mother right to be wakened from a dead sleep.

The phone rang only once before her mother's voice came on the line.

"Stephen?" she said.

"No, mother," Alexis replied wearily. "It's Lex."

"Oh, you're in, then, are you?" her mother said peevishly. "It's about bloody time. Gordon is there, waiting for you."

Alexis looked up and, sure enough, there was a sombre, middle-aged man standing apart from the other holiday-goers. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, and wore a chauffeur's cap. Alexis sighed.

"Yes, I see him now, mother." She raised her hand and waved; the man nodded and moved towards her. "We'll be there shortly." She ended the call without waiting for her mother to say 'goodbye'. Not that she ever did, Alexis thought, hauling her suitcase over to the chauffeur.

"Hallo, Gordon," she said. "I'm terribly sorry about this."

Silas Gordon chuckled and lifted the brim of his hat to her. For a moment, Alexis was reminded of another man with a hat, and she gritted her teeth against the memory.

"No trouble at all, miss," he said. He had always been a patient man. Had to be, to survive around the Finch matriarch. "I've not been here long."

Alexis raised one eyebrow. "How long _have_ you been waiting?" she asked cautiously.

Gordon smiled at her. "Only a few hours," he said, reaching for her luggage. "May I take that for you?" he asked politely.

Alexis smiled in return. "Would it make a difference if I said 'no'?" she asked.

He shook his head and took her suitcase, lifting it effortlessly. "Not at all, miss," he said, his green eyes twinkling at her. Alexis laughed and followed him out of the airport to the waiting limousine.

Her luggage locked in the trunk, Alexis slipped into the back and pulled a cigarette from her satchel. Ten hours without a smoke. She felt like screaming. As the car started, she pressed a button, rolling down the partition that divided driver from passenger.

"And how are you, Gordon?" Alexis asked, drawing cigarette smoke deep into her lungs.

"Oh, well enough, I suppose," he said, as they drove away from the terminal. "Much the same as the last time you came round."

Alexis snorted softly. "Yes, except we're both eight years older," she said. She held up her cigarette. "D'you want a fag?" she asked.

Gordon laughed. She was the most casual of any member of the family, treating him more like a friend than a servant. He always felt he could speak freely to her, provided they were alone.

"What brand are you smoking now, Alexis?" he said, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror as she reached into her satchel.

"B-and-H Gold," she said, leaning over the seat and tossing the packet onto the bench next to him. "I ran out of Gauloises, and it's almost impossible to find L-and-Bs anywhere in America." She stared at the ember on her half-burned cigarette. "For a while I was smoking Pall Mall unfiltered, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she gazed out the passenger-side window for a moment, lost in thought.

"Ah," Gordon said knowingly. He recognised that look, and knew better than to comment. Instead, he picked up the pack of Benson & Hedges and removed one, then used the car's lighter to sear the tip. He rolled down his window slightly, letting the heavy blue smoke escape into the London night.

Some two hours later, they entered Bath. Gordon looked over his shoulder at Alexis, who was asleep in the back of the limousine. He smiled to himself and turned on the radio, tuning it to her favourite classical station. Some things never changed.

She woke slowly, propping herself up against one of the doors and rubbing her eyes blearily. Gordon picked up the pack of cigarettes and tossed it to her, and she lit one. They drove in silence until they reached Camerton. The little village was fast asleep. Alexis peered out the window as they drove through it.

"Not much has changed, has it, Gordon?" she said softly, watching the town recede in the distance.

"Not in the village, no," he replied.

Nor at The Hawthorns, she thought, as they drove up the long, winding road towards the estate. The house could be seen in the distance, towering over everything else in the area. Not that there was much else; her father had bought most of the land here when he purchased the building. It now sat on a plot of almost thirty acres. The family even owned the little brook that ran along the northern boundary. Her father saw it as an investment. Alexis thought it was a disgusting waste of money.

"Things are the same all over," she said bitterly, as Gordon brought the car round to the front of the house.

Gordon left the car to idle and shook his head. "Not as much as you might think, miss," he said, getting out of the limo and opening the rear door. It was time to return to a more formal tone. As Alexis stepped out of the car, someone switched on a light in the front hall. The butler, most likely, she thought. Because, God knew, her mother couldn't live without servants.

Alexis waited beside the car while Gordon brought her luggage out from the trunk of the limousine. He deposited it at the front door and rang the bell for her. As he was turning to leave, he pulled his cap down over his eyes and spoke softly to her, his lips barely moving.

"Watch your sister," he murmured, and then he was gone, and the door was being opened by a grey-haired man in a perfectly-tailored suit.

"Miss Alexis," the butler said, bowing slightly at the waist.

Alexis glanced sharply over her shoulder, but Gordon had already returned to the limo, and was driving it round to the garage. Frowning slightly, she turned back to the man at the front door.

"Hello, Butler," she said, picking up her suitcase and stepping into the hall. It was her mother's twisted sense of humour that had prompted her to hire a man named Butler to be her butler. Alexis felt a little sorry for him. Hell, she felt sorry for all her mother's servants.

James Butler closed the front door, locking it carefully. Alexis set her luggage on the marble floor with a soft 'clack' and slipped off her calfskin coat.

"Lady Finch is in the drawing room," Butler said, taking Alexis' coat and hanging it in the hall closet. "She is most anxious to speak with you." He picked up the heavy suitcase, struggling with it. Alexis winced. "I will put your luggage in your room," he said, and started climbing the stairs to the second floor.

Provided you don't have a heart attack yourself, Alexis thought as she watched him go. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. She shut her eyes and started counting to ten, but had only reached six when her mother's voice cut in.

"Alexis? What the devil are you doing, standing in the hall with your eyes closed? Come in here right now."

Alexis sighed heavily. She stepped into the drawing room doorway and slouched against the frame. "Hello, mother," she said, looking at the woman who was pacing back and forth in front of the tall windows. From her refined appearance -- crisp silk blouse, tweed skirt, and perfectly coiffed hair -- you'd never know that she'd been awake for over twenty-four hours. "So, what's the word?"

"The word is 'piss off'," said a sultry voice from the far end of the room. An attractive blonde girl was sitting in a wing-back chair near the fireplace.

Alexis glanced at her sister. "That's two words, Rebecca." Rebecca stuck out her tongue and made a face. Before Alexis could respond, their mother interrupted.

"Girls!" she snapped. "That's enough of that!"

Alexis took a deep breath and turned back to her mother. She studied the older woman for a moment before speaking. "How's dad, then?" she said, her voice carefully neutral.

Elizabeth Finch stopped her pacing and turned to Alexis. "He was released from surgery a few hours ago. The doctor says he's going to make it."

"Good," Alexis said. She straightened and turned to leave. "Give him my best. I'm going to Brussels."

Rebecca's voice sliced into her. "Frankly, Lex, if that's your best, then --"

"You're not leaving!" Elizabeth interrupted. "You'll stay right here until he's out of the hospital."

Alexis turned back to her mother and narrowed her eyes.

"Chantal has prepared the pink room for you," Elizabeth said, dismissing Alexis with a wave of her bejewelled hand.

"Of course she has," Alexis muttered. Rebecca was smirking. Both girls knew how much Alexis hated the pink room.

Their mother turned and looked out of the window into the darkness. "Breakfast is at eight," she said, and it was clear that the conversation was over.


	3. Breakfast

Breakfast was a dreadful experience. Everything was stilted, and Alexis found herself tuning out her mother to such a degree that she almost missed Elizabeth's comment about their solicitor.

"...And Malcolm Smythe will be here tomorrow afternoon," she was saying. Alexis raised one eyebrow. "Apparently, there was a peculiar document found in your father's study after he took ill, and he wishes to discuss it with us."

Even Rebecca looked interested. "What sort of document?" she asked, taking another bite of toast.

Elizabeth shrugged indifferently. "I've no idea," she said. "I'm sure Malcolm will explain everything when he arrives." She raised a finger at Butler, who came forward and poured her some more tea. "Until then, there's little to do but wait."

Alexis pushed away her chair and stood up. "I'm going into the village," she said, picking up her still-full plate and carrying it to the dumbwaiter.

"Oh, Alexis," Elizabeth said, frowning at the dish in her daughter's hands. "Don't do that. It's so common."

Alexis bit her cheek and silently counted to five before setting the plate into the niche and turning back to the table. "Have a lovely morning, mother," she said drily, and left the dining room.

Word must have travelled quickly, because by the time she had retrieved her coat and stepped out of the house, Gordon was waiting for her. Alexis growled softly. Wall-to-wall servants drove her mad. It was like being a three-year old, under constant supervision.

"Which car would you like me to bring round, miss?"

Alexis sighed. "The Spyder, please, Gordon," she said. She adjusted the belt round her waist and caught sight of the chauffeur's dour expression. "What is it?" she asked.

"I'm afraid Miss Rebecca wrapped it round that gas lamp in the village this past spring," Gordon said. He gave her an apologetic smile.

Alexis's blue eyes flashed. "The Fiat?" she said.

Gordon shook his head. "Smacked into a lorry coming up from Camerton," he replied. "She had some nasty bruises from that one," he added.

"Well, that's something, at least," Alexis said acidly. She looked towards the back of the house. "I guess I'll try the stables, then."

Gordon took a sharp breath. "Er... Don't ask for Socks, miss," he said gloomily. Alexis stared at him. "He threw her last summer. She insisted that your father..." His voice trailed off into miserable silence.

Alexis exploded. "Bloody hell!" she shouted. "If she can't drive it, ride it, or shag it, she doesn't want it, does she?"

Gordon sighed deeply, but said nothing.

Alexis kicked at a patch of loose gravel. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "I'll walk." She turned away and started down the drive.

"I can bring the car round," Gordon called after her, but she shook her head and kept walking.

"It's not far," she said over her shoulder, then muttered to herself, "and I definitely need to be alone right now."


	4. The Interrogation

The village of Camerton was almost too small to be called a village. Alexis walked the narrow streets, absently turning over the events of the previous day in her mind. She paused in her musings long enough to buy a pack of Lambert & Butler, and to chat with a few long-time residents who hadn't seen her in a while. The pub was closed until eleven, so she strolled down to the village green, where she settled back on the grass and lit a cigarette.

Eight years since she'd been here last. They had been relatively good years, she decided, as she watched the foot traffic pass through and around the green. She'd met some very interesting people, and made some very serious money. The fact that she didn't need to take handouts from her father made her happy. The last thing she wanted was for him to have any further hold over her.

Her shoulder blade itched where he'd had her tattooed in her youth. It always itched when she thought of him. Psychosomatic, she chided herself, and lay back in the grass, staring up at the clouds. The bullfinches were singing in the trees, the late summer sun was warm on her face, and Alexis had to forcibly keep herself from falling asleep. She yawned and hoped her father would be home from the hospital soon. She wanted to get back to the continent, back to her life. Time spent at The Hawthorns always felt like a prison sentence. Even being this short distance from the estate was akin to being out on parole.

The sun was high in the sky when Alexis crushed out her fifth cigarette and sat up. She brushed a few blades of grass from her short black hair and rose to her feet. Elizabeth would likely be expecting her back for lunch. Alexis debated eating at the pub instead, but she didn't want to antagonise her mother. They might not like each other particularly well, but that didn't mean Alexis couldn't be civil.

Gordon was washing the limousine in front of the garage when Alexis walked up the drive. He waved to her, and she waved back. At least there was one friendly face at the estate. Alexis pushed open the front door and took off her coat. She was about to enter the drawing room when she heard her sister's voice.

"You needn't worry about that," Rebecca was saying. "Doctor Phillips gave her some sedatives. She could sleep through a train wreck."

Alexis stopped in the hall and held her breath, listening as Rebecca spoke into the phone.

"No, don't," Rebecca said sharply. "It's not safe. I'll meet you at the old mill." There was a pause. "Oh, I know," she continued, her voice taking on that little-girl whine that Alexis found so grating. "I miss you too, Wolfie." Another pause, and then: "Right. 'Bye."

Alexis carefully opened the front door, and then closed it gently behind herself as she stepped out of the house. She was beginning to understand Gordon's cryptic warning regarding her sister. She walked to the fountain that dominated the centre of the driveway, sat on the edge, and lit a fresh cigarette.

Five minutes later she'd smoked it down to the filter, and was just tossing it away when the door opened and her mother's maid looked out. The girl smiled when she saw Alexis.

"Excuse me, miss," she called. "Dinner is served."

Alexis smiled back and stepped on her dog-end, crushing it under her heel. "Same as usual, eh, Chantal?" she said as the maid took her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

Chantal blushed prettily. "I'm sure I don't know, miss," she said shyly. Alexis raised one eyebrow. "But your mother and sister are waiting at the table." She curtseyed to Alexis and bustled off.

"Ah, there you are, Alexis," Elizabeth said as her daughter entered the dining room. She gestured to an empty chair.

"_So_ good of you to join us," Rebecca added with a smirk.

Alexis glared at her sister and took her seat. The meal was, in fact, the same as usual -- watercress and prawn sandwiches, thin slices of ham, and thick wedges of melon. Some things never changed.

Lunch was as uncomfortable as breakfast had been. Alexis didn't have much of an appetite, Elizabeth did little more than toy with her wineglass, and Rebecca spent most of the meal staring out of the dining room window. It was all just a waiting game.

After lunch, Alexis fled downstairs to the pool. She dug up an old bathing suit and spent most of the afternoon doing laps. It was mindless activity, and gave her a chance to think about the conversation she'd overheard that afternoon. Rebecca was obviously up to something, but how serious was it? Alexis understood the pressure she must be under -- always being monitored, rarely having time to herself -- but this seemed a little reckless.

With a mental shrug, Alexis decided to let it go. Rebecca was just entering her twenties; it was probably one of those 'let's sneak out and snog' things. Even Alexis had indulged in her youth, although when she'd snuck out of the house it was to go scrumping with her friends. For cars, not apples.

At seven o'clock, Alexis showered, dressed, and headed to the dining room where Chantal and Butler were setting the table for supper. Alexis slouched against the door frame and watched them, her hands buried deep in her trouser pockets. She'd just decided to skip the meal completely, when her mother and sister arrived.

"You're early," Elizabeth said. There was a faint note of approval in her voice. Alexis suspected it wouldn't last.

When the three of them had settled in for their meal, and Butler had filled wine glasses all round, the interrogation began.

"So, what are you doing with yourself these days, Alexis?" Elizabeth asked.

Alexis groaned inwardly. "Oh, the usual," she said noncommittally, poking her fork into the lump of cottage pie that occupied most of her plate. The colourful vegetables that accompanied it were overdone and smothered in gravy. She was rapidly losing her appetite.

"Not still fiddling with chocolate, are you?" Elizabeth said, raising one eyebrow.

Alexis stared into her wineglass for a long moment before answering.

"Yes, mother," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "I'm still a chocolatier. Work has been very good lately, in fact." She couldn't resist the dig. Her mother ignored it.

"I don't know why you bother, Alexis," Elizabeth said. She sniffed haughtily. "Your father and I groomed you to be so much more than that. All those years of schooling, and for what?"

Rebecca hid her smirk behind a bite of pie. She was obviously enjoying the inquisition.

"You really should find a nice man and settle down," Elizabeth continued. "Someone like Ian Morgan." She looked at Alexis out of the corner of her eye. "I saw his mother in Bath last week. She says he's opened his own practice in London."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "I'm quite happy being single, mother," she said, still maintaining her neutral tone. "It's much easier to travel without having to worry about --"

"Travel!" her mother said sharply. "You do too much travelling, Alexis. You need to settle in one place and start raising a family. You don't have many more childbearing years left in you, my dear, and it's high time you gave this family a grandchild."

Alexis raised her head slowly and looked at her mother, her eyes narrowing. "I don't like children, mother," she said. "I have no interest in raising a child."

Elizabeth waved dismissively. "Oh, don't be daft, Alexis. That's what nannies and governesses are for. Why, if everyone who didn't like children thought the way you did, there'd be no children at all!"

"I don't see a problem with that," Alexis muttered into her wineglass.

"Your father and I engaged nannies for all of you, and you've turned out just fine," Elizabeth continued.

Oh, sure, Alexis thought. Except that I'm a thief in my spare time, Stephen hasn't bothered to visit you since he left home twenty-five years ago, and Rebecca is a spoiled brat with an Electra complex. "I refuse to have this discussion with you, mother," Alexis said aloud. "I'm not getting married, and I'm not having children. You'll have to depend on Rebecca for that."

Rebecca glared daggers at Alexis as their mother sniffed again.

"Oh, Rebecca has several suitors," Elizabeth said, taking a sip of wine. "We're just trying to decide on the best match for her."

Rebecca flashed a nasty look at her mother and bit down hard on her fork. Alexis raised one eyebrow. So in spite of Rebecca's machinations, their parents were still planning to marry her off to the highest bidder. Very interesting. This information revived Alexis' curiosity about the mysterious phone call she'd overheard that afternoon.

"At least you don't sully the Finch name," Elizabeth was saying. Alexis' eyes sparked with anger. "I would be dreadfully embarrassed if anyone was to connect your little 'business' with your father's empire." She looked at Alexis with something approaching disgust. "If I'd known that you'd turn out this way, I'd never have allowed Paulette to teach you how to cook."

Alexis slammed her fork onto the table and stood up. Her chair fell back onto the floor, and her mother's eyes widened. Even Rebecca's mouth fell open in amazement. At the far end of the room, Butler raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, but his face remained impassive.

"This is not a conversation I wish to have, mother," Alexis said icily. She stepped away from the table. "Until you're prepared to entertain the notion that I'm a responsible adult with a successful life of my own, we've nothing more to discuss." She stalked out of the dining room, leaving her mother and sister to stare after her in stunned silence.


	5. Miss Me?

Alexis grabbed her coat from the hall closet and slammed the front door. The sun was just fading over the horizon, painting the sky in pinks and reds, but she was too angry to notice. Instead, she stomped over to the fountain and sat down, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. She pulled one from the pack and was digging for her lighter when someone held a lit Zippo in front of her.

"Thank you," Alexis said, touching her cigarette to the flame. She inhaled deeply and looked up at the man holding the lighter. It took her a moment to realise who she was seeing. "Jigen?" she said at last, her eyes wide.

Daisuke Jigen inclined his head. "Hey there, angel," he said, pulling out his own cigarette and lighting up. "Miss me?"

Alexis stared at him, disbelief written on her face. "Blimey," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It can't be." But it was. The hat. The beard. The four-hundred-dollar Italian suit, and the trademark slouch. She couldn't take her eyes off him. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Jigen chuckled and drew his hat lower over his eyes. "Having a smoke. Talking to you." He took another drag of his cigarette and smirked.

Alexis laughed weakly. "Could you be a bit more specific?" she said, finally remembering to breathe.

Jigen set one foot on the edge of the fountain and leaned against his bent knee. "I have some business in London," he said, tapping his ashes onto the ground, "but what I really wanted to do was see the country."

"Well, bugger me with a pitchfork." Alexis looked him over from head to foot. He looked exactly the same, and she could already feel a twinge in her heart. Some things never changed. "It's wonderful to see you, Jigen," she said at last.

"You too. You're looking good." He glanced around at the house and grounds while she studied him. "So this is the great Finch estate, huh?" he said, taking another puff.

Alexis nodded. "We call it The Hawthorns," she said.

Jigen smiled down at her. "Yeah, your chauffeur told me."

Alexis blinked in surprise. "Gordon? How do you know him?"

"I met him in a bar in west London," Jigen said, dropping his spent cigarette and stepping on it. He sat beside her on the lip of the fountain and stretched out his long legs. "Actually, I overheard him talking to someone about the oldest Finch girl, home for the first time in years. He compared her to Snow White, and that description fit you perfectly." Jigen reached out to touch her hair, but stopped short and dropped his hand.

Alexis stared at him. "You're completely mad," she said. "There must be a hundred people named 'Finch' in London alone!"

Jigen tilted his hat up and gazed into the distance. "A hundred and seventy," he corrected. "I checked."

Alexis laughed. "You're a truly remarkable man," she said, finishing her cigarette and crushing the remains underfoot.

"Yeah, well." Jigen rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. "I figured it would be easy enough to find you. I mean, I knew your father was some big shot in England." He looked around again, taking in the lush green lawn, the massive stone house, and the long gravel drive. "I just didn't know he lived way the hell out in the middle of nowhere. Is there even a friggin' bar around here?" he said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Alexis.

She nodded. "There's a pub in the village," she said, standing up. "I was just on my way, actually."

Jigen leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Don't you Brits usually have dinner around this time?" he asked, squinting up at her.

Alexis' mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Oookay," Jigen said, rising to his feet. "Care to talk about it?"

Alexis angrily shoved her hands into her coat pockets and started down the drive. Jigen followed with long, easy strides.

"The short version," Alexis said, "is that my mother wants me to get married, settle down, and start pumping out babies."

Jigen winced. "Damn."

Alexis nodded curtly. "Yes, I'm feeling rather tetchy about it, as you can well imagine. What I really want is a stiff drink." She looked thoughtful. "Or three," she added.

"Well, I'm buyin'," Jigen said, stretching his arms over his head and clasping his hands behind his neck. Alexis looked at him curiously. "We got a big score last week, so I'm feeling generous." He winked at her, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh cigarette.

Alexis laughed and slipped her arm through his. "All right, handsome," she said, her blue eyes twinkling in the dying light. "I never say 'no' to a free pint."


	6. Youthful Indiscretions

The pub was small, dark, and smelled strongly of beer. It was exactly the way Alexis remembered it. At the barman's friendly "What's yours?", she ordered pints of Beamish for Jigen and herself. The two of them found seats at the bar and alternated between talking, drinking, and watching snippets of the previous day's football match.

"Lupin still laughs about the Old Man's 'grotty Mackintosh'," Jigen said, as they ordered their fifth round. He smirked as the barman set two tumblers in front of them. They'd moved on from stout to whisky. "He never gets tired of that story."

Alexis chuckled. "And Fujiko?" she said, sipping at her drink.

Jigen grunted. "She's Fujiko," he muttered, taking a healthy swallow of his Scotch. "We had a little trouble with her in New Orleans."

Alexis nodded. She remembered running into the boys at the art gallery. Literally. "Sorry for getting in your way that night," she said, and Jigen waved away her apology. "How did it go, anyway?" Alexis asked.

"It went." He shrugged. "We got rid of the haul easily enough. Always a buyer for ugly art. Some people got no friggin' taste." He looked over at her. "What about you? Did you finish that Fabergé job for your Russian client?"

"Not quite yet," Alexis said, swirling her drink with one hand. "I've nicked maybe half a dozen eggs, but there are several more that I still need to track down."

For a few minutes, the two of them split their attention between their drinks and the television. At the commercial break, Jigen spoke again. "So, why has the prodigal daughter returned home?" he asked, as the barman filled their glasses.

Alexis tossed her head. "Father's had a heart attack," she said.

Jigen raised an eyebrow. "Damn," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alexis said, her voice tight. "He had it coming."

Jigen shook his head and gave a low whistle. "You really don't get along with your folks, do you?" he said, pulling a nearly-empty pack of Pall Malls from his pocket.

Alexis growled with frustration. "It's just..." She sighed heavily and accepted the offered cigarette. "Mother is so concerned with appearances, and all father cares about is money." Jigen peered sceptically at her from beneath the brim of his hat, and she laughed weakly. "Oh, you know what I mean," she said. "At least you and Lupin aren't tight with your funds." She leaned forward and allowed him to light her smoke. "My father wouldn't buy a glass of water to douse me if I were on fire," she grumbled.

Jigen grinned at her. "Now I understand why you don't get back here much," he said, speaking around his cigarette. He took a deep breath and blew out a steady stream of smoke. "In Italy, you were kind of vague about your family," he added.

"Yes," Alexis said softly. "But we had other things on our minds."

A faint blush touched Jigen's cheeks, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool. "Yeah, well," he said, covering his embarrassment with a cough. "Youthful indiscretions?"

Alexis snorted softly. "We're long past the 'youthful' stage, Jigen." She lifted the brim of his hat slightly with one finger so she could see his eyes. "But you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night," she added, smiling gently at him.

They gazed at each other for a moment before Jigen raised his glass and looked at her over the rim. "There aren't many things that help me sleep at night, angel," he said. "But I've got two of them right in front of me."

Alexis blushed fiercely. "Your skill with words has improved," she said, bringing her own glass to her lips and draining it.

"Heh." Jigen finished his Scotch and lowered his hat over his eyes. "Maybe. But I'm still better with a gun," he said, taking a long, slow pull on his cigarette.

"Oh!" Alexis brightened. "While you're in England, we should try sporting clays. There's a course on the estate. My father uses it for Skeet."

Jigen smirked. "Only if I can use my Magnum," he said, finishing his smoke and butting it in the ashtray.

Alexis laughed. "I'm sure we can arrange that," she said, extinguishing her cigarette. She nodded to the clock on the wall. The hands were pointing to half past ten. "I'd best get back," she said. "I'm still trying to reset my internal clock."

Jigen nodded and dropped a handful of pound notes on the bar. "Yeah, I know how that is," he said, as they left the pub.

"I imagine you would," Alexis said. When they reached the village green, she stopped and turned, looking up at him uncertainly. "Thanks for the drink, Jigen," she said softly. She nervously bit her lip. "Your timing was perfect."

"No problem," Jigen said, tilting his hat back with the tip of his thumb. He looked down at her, searching her eyes. They stood awkwardly for a moment, neither certain of the other's intentions -- or wishes. Finally, he flashed her a half-smile. "You around tomorrow?"

Alexis nodded. "Yes," she said. "Father's solicitor will be coming round for tea. He has something to discuss with the family." She frowned thoughtfully. "I'll likely be free after that. You can knock me up in the evening if you'd like."

Jigen couldn't resist teasing her. "I thought you said you didn't want kids," he said, his smile changing to a smirk.

"Jigen!" Alexis smacked him playfully with the back of her hand. "Bloody Yank," she said, laughing as he caught her wrist in a firm grip. "You know what I mean!"

He grinned at her. "Yeah," he said, "but I never get tired of hearing you Brits use that expression." His grin slowly faded as they both realised that he was holding her arm. Jigen slid his hand down her wrist and pressed his palm against hers. Alexis twined their fingers together for a brief moment before blushing deeply and pulling away.

"I .. I have to go," she said, her breath catching in her throat.

Jigen nodded. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, angel."

Alexis smiled faintly and turned, dashing up the road towards The Hawthorns.


	7. The Old Mill

Halfway home, Alexis slowed to a walk. Her breath came quick and hard, and she held a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. It had little to do with the fact that she'd been running; she was in good shape for her age. All Alexis could think about was the last time she and Jigen had run into each other, and how he had pressed much more than his hand against her skin.

Lost in thought, she passed the dark, burned-out shell of the old mill. It wasn't until she'd almost walked by that she realised what she was seeing. This was where Rebecca was supposed to meet her lover.

Alexis burned with curiosity. It had always been a major failing of hers, and had landed her in more trouble than she could ever have imagined. But knowledge was addictive.

She looked down at herself. Her slacks and coat, and even her button-down Oxford shirt, were all black. Her hair was black, of course. All she needed to do was find something to cover her face, and she'd be invisible -- or at least, near enough to it that she could watch her sister's little game.

Approaching the mill, Alexis started looking for pieces of dry, burned wood. The mill had burned down almost four years ago, but if she could find a few parts that had been protected from the elements, she might be able to scrape off enough charcoal to cover her face and hands.

It took almost forty minutes but she managed to get enough coverage to feel relatively safe. In that time she'd also explored the ruins quite thoroughly, and knew more about the building now than she had when it was a working grain mill. There were three potential exits -- four, if you counted the massive hole in the roof -- and numerous hiding places. Alexis was just settling herself on a high, thick wooden beam that she hoped would support her weight, when she saw a light in the distance. It bobbed up and down in the darkness, carried by someone who was approaching the mill on foot.

Alexis slowed her breathing and remained perfectly still, as a tall, slender man entered the charred building. He was carrying a kerosene lantern, and when he reached up to hang it on a warped, protruding nail, Alexis caught sight of his face.

He was definitely Rebecca's type: rugged-looking, dark-haired, and tanned, but there was a curl to his upper lip that Alexis didn't like in the least. He had a lean and hungry look to him that made her shiver. She hoped Rebecca would arrive soon so that the mystery could be solved, and Alexis could go to bed and dream about her own lanky gunslinger.

She didn't have long to wait. Her sister would never make a thief, Alexis thought wryly. She could hear Rebecca's footsteps as she crunched over the burned wreckage and stumbled into the mill. A heavy flashlight fell from her hand and rolled, stopping at the dark man's feet. He picked it up and spoke, and Alexis had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"_Ma chérie_," he said. His accent was appalling, but Rebecca fluttered her eyelashes at him and clasped her hands together. "'ow I 'ave missed you." He held out his arms, and Rebecca rushed towards him.

Alexis winced. Rebecca simply could _not _be falling for this. As much as she disliked her younger sister, Alexis found herself feeling almost sympathetic as she watched the exchange between Rebecca and this calculating man, who was anything but French.

"Oh, Wolf, darling!" Rebecca cried, falling into his arms. She tilted her face up, closing her eyes, and they kissed passionately. Up in the crossbeams, Alexis rolled her eyes. "You must help me, Wolf," Rebecca continued, breaking the kiss. "Things are simply awful here!"

"_Mon amour_," the man, stroking her hair and pressing his lips against her cheek. "What trials you must be going t'rough."

Rebecca gazed up at her lover with wide, tear-bright eyes. "My horrid sister is back in England," she said, and Alexis gave a barely-audible growl. "The Wicked Witch keeps going on about how I'm the last hope for the Finch family, but I know she loathes me. I can see it in her eyes whenever she looks my way."

Alexis shook her head. Rebecca sounded exactly like the main character in one of her trashy Gothic romance novels. Windswept moors, tragic, doe-eyed heroines, and dashing-yet-dangerous men: that was Rebecca's fantasy life in a nutshell. Alexis had a sudden, irrational urge to see the library at The Hawthorns burn to the ground.

The man that Rebecca called 'Wolf' was running his hands over her slender young body, and Alexis winced again. She really hoped her younger sister knew what she was doing.

"Oh, Wolfie," Rebecca sighed, allowing him to unbutton her blouse and slide his hands over her breasts. She panted heavily into his ear, her arms around his neck. "When can we escape to your estate in Bergerac?"

"Soon, _mon ange_," he said, burying his nose in her cleavage. "Very soon."

Alexis made a face and slowly crept along the beam until she reached the far exit. She silently lowered herself to the ground and crept away from the ruins as Rebecca moaned loudly. Alexis pulled a tissue from her pocket and started to rub the charcoal from her face and hands. What she really needed now was a long, hot bath. The whole show had made her feel absolutely filthy.


	8. Lunch

The next day, Alexis slept late. Chantal knocked on her door at eight o'clock and poked her nose into the room.

"Miss Alexis?" she said. "Miss Alexis, breakfast is served."

Alexis groaned. "Go 'way," she mumbled, burying her head under the covers.

Chantal stepped into the room and approached the bed. "Miss Alexis," she said softly, "Lady Finch is waiting for you to join her at breakfast."

Alexis threw back the sheet and glared up at Chantal. "Tell her to get stuffed," she said, rolling over and curling up to her pillow. "I'm tired."

Chantal smiled to herself and left the room, closing the door gently behind her. Alexis fell back to sleep, dreaming of a pair of soulful eyes that hid beneath a black fedora.

When she finally crawled out of bed, it was close to ten. Alexis dressed slowly, pulling on a pair of black cotton trousers and an equally dark crew-neck shirt. Another day of marking time, she thought to herself as she descended the back stairs to the empty kitchen. Once again, she wished the doctors would send her father home so that she could return to the continent, and to her life.

Alexis opened the enormous fridge and lifted the glass from the cheese board, taking a small slice of creamy white Brie. She grabbed a knife from the block and cut herself a piece of French loaf, then pressed the one onto the other and headed out to the stables. If she was going to be on an estate of such a ridiculous size, she might as well get some use out of it.

She made the usual small talk with the groom, and selected a chestnut roan from her father's collection of horses. 'Collection'. That's all it was, really. He collected animals and people just as he collected art and antiques. Sometimes Alexis wondered if her father had a single compassionate bone in his body, or if everything in life was just an investment.

She gave the horse his head and let him gallop across the estate, while she sat back in the saddle and smiled into the wind. At times like this, Alexis could almost see herself returning to The Hawthorns for good. If only these moments could come more often, she might actually be happy here.

It was nearly noon when she guided the horse back to the stables. She slid off his back and gave him a friendly pat on the nose before cleaning up and heading to the dining room for lunch. Her mother and sister were already at the table.

Alexis nodded curtly to her mother and took her seat.

"Ah, there you are," Elizabeth said, picking up her knife and fork. "You really shouldn't skip breakfast, Alexis. It's very bad for your health."

Alexis stared at her mother, incredulous. Could she have completely forgotten their argument from the night before?

"And would it be too much to ask for you to wear something other than black for a change?" Elizabeth continued, slicing a piece of tomato into quarters. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, studying Alexis all the while. "Mauve was always very pretty against your skin," she continued. "I'm sure Chantal could go into Bath and pick up some things."

Alexis couldn't help but smile. "No, thank you, mother," she said, reaching for the salad bowl. She took a small scoop and then offered the bowl to Rebecca, who shook her head brusquely.

Elizabeth turned to her youngest daughter and frowned. "Do sit up straight, Rebecca," she snapped. "How are we ever going to find you a proper husband if you insist on slouching like that?"

Rebecca straightened in her chair and glared daggers at her mother.

"And don't glower," Elizabeth said, returning to her lunch. "It's not lady-like. Honestly, if you're going to exhibit this sort of behaviour, perhaps we should reconsider sending you to Oxford this year."

Rebecca's reaction was mixed, and Alexis could almost see her thought process. The freedom of university versus having to study what their parents insisted upon. And then, strangely, Rebecca's expression softened, and she smiled prettily. Alexis frowned, puzzled.

"That's better," Elizabeth said. The rest of the meal was taken in silence, except for the occasional murmured request for Butler to refill a wine glass, or pass a particular dish. As they finished eating, and the girls rose to leave the table, their mother held up a hand.

"Remember," Elizabeth said, as Alexis and Rebecca both looked at her, "Malcolm will be coming round at four, so we'll be taking tea in the drawing room." She allowed Butler to pull back her chair. "Don't be late," she added, standing up and waving dismissively at her daughters.


	9. The Note

At ten to four, all three Finch women gathered in the drawing room. Butler was setting out the tea service while Chantal put the finishing touches on a tray of sandwiches and biscuits. The front bell rang, and Butler left the room. When he returned, there was an older man with him, dressed in a pin-striped suit and carrying a bowler hat.

"Thank you," the man said, as Butler took his hat. Elizabeth Finch moved forward and held out her hands.

"Malcolm," she said warmly. "So good of you to come."

Malcolm Smythe took Elizabeth's hands and smiled faintly. "I'm sorry the circumstances aren't more pleasant," he said, by way of greeting.

Elizabeth smiled weakly. Her chin started to tremble, and Alexis realised that her mother's carefully erected façade was about to crack.

"Hello, Mr Smythe," Alexis said, stepping to the rescue. Moving to shake hands with the solicitor, she was surprised to see that her mother was staring at her with naked gratitude. "You're looking very well." At the man's puzzled expression, she smiled and said, "I'm Alexis."

Malcolm's eyes widened and his wrinkled face shone with joy. "Little Lexi?" he said, grasping her hand firmly. His grip was as strong as it had ever been. "Why, it's been years!"

Alexis laughed. "Over twenty," she said, her blue eyes twinkling. "You haven't changed a whit, old man." She stood on her toes and kissed him firmly on the cheek.

"Oh, well," Malcolm mumbled. He frowned and harrumphed, but Alexis knew it was an act. Malcolm Smythe was one of the last great gentlemen left in England.

"You remember my sister, Rebecca?" Alexis said, waving towards the fireplace where Rebecca stood, leaning against the mantle.

"Ah, yes," the solicitor said, bowing slightly from the waist. "It hasn't been quite as long since I last saw you, young lady," he added, as Rebecca gave a wan smile in reply.

Elizabeth had recovered and settled herself on the Chesterfield. She gestured to the seat beside her, and Malcolm sat down, setting his briefcase at his feet. He leaned back and clapped his hands to his knees.

"Pleasure before business," he said in his gruff but cheerful voice.

That was a phrase Alexis knew well; it was practically Malcolm's battle cry. Alexis remembered the times when he would come round to the house with papers for her father to sign. Always, it was tea first, business later.

It was also a signal. Butler smiled distantly and picked up the silver teapot. For thirty or forty minutes, there was the usual small talk, reminiscing, and general chit-chat that was so integral to this British ritual. When the sandwiches had been demolished and the biscuits were mere crumbs, they all sat back, satisfied and curious. Malcolm pushed aside his cup and saucer, then reached for his briefcase and set it on the low coffee table. Suddenly, he was all business.

"There was a note found in Sir Nigel's study the other day," he said solemnly, unlatching his case and reaching into it. He pulled out a sheet of paper that had been tucked into a plastic protector, and set it on the table. Alexis looked down at it and choked on her tea.

It was signed, in an elegant, flowing script: 'Lupin the Third'.

"This little blighter," Malcolm continued, as Alexis tried desperately to recover herself, "is a notorious thief and con man. For this reason, we've called in a chap from the ICPO to deal with the problem." He nodded to Butler, who moved to the hallway. There was the sound of the front door opening and closing, and a murmur of voices. Through the drawing room doorway stepped a wrinkled figure in a light brown overcoat.

Alexis' eyes widened.

"Allow me to introduce Inspector Zenigata," Malcolm said, gesturing towards the inspector. Zenigata bowed formally to the room. "The inspector is the foremost authority on Lupin the Third, and he has generously offered to help with this case."

As the inspector moved closer, Alexis tried to hide her face, without success. Zenigata peered at her.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he said. His English was heavily accented. Alexis turned to look at him. "It was Rome, wasn't it?" Zenigata continued. "Madrid? Or was it Amsterdam..."

"Naples," Alexis muttered. She fiddled with her teacup.

"Right!" Zenigata snapped his fingers. "We met at... uh..."

Alexis raised one eyebrow. "You tried to get into my kitchen during the diamond exhibit at the Palazzo Reale last autumn," she said drily.

"Ooh, yes." Zenigata's eyes narrowed. "Now I remember." Alexis blinked at him. He played the bumbling fool very well, but she saw now that it was largely an act. He was surprisingly -- and annoyingly -- clever. "This is twice now that you've been associated with Lupin the Third," Zenigata said pointedly. Alexis squirmed uncomfortably under his piercing gaze. She was rescued by the most unlikely person.

"Inspector!" Elizabeth Finch rose to her feet. Her blue eyes were stormy. In moments of high temper, it was easy to see the resemblance between mother and daughter. "I am appalled. How dare you accuse Alexis of being acquainted with this... this..." She seemed at a loss for words.

"Rogue?" Rebecca suggested.

"Criminal," Zenigata muttered.

"Miscreant!" Elizabeth snapped. "My daughter may be many things, but she is not a thief, of that I can assure you."

Alexis managed to keep a straight face while Zenigata mumbled an apology. He reached for the note and read it aloud.

"'I, Lupin the Third, will steal away your most precious possession by the end of this month. Be prepared!'" Zenigata frowned. "That's a little vague, isn't it?" he said. "Doesn't really sound like him, but I suppose we can't take the chance." Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "What's your husband's most precious possession?"

Elizabeth spread her hands and shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea, inspector," she replied. "We have so many treasures around the house. Delft, paintings, jewels, a Fabergé egg --"

Zenigata blinked and stared. "Fabergé egg?" he repeated.

Alexis coughed.

"-- all of which are absolutely priceless," Elizabeth finished, sitting back down and folding her hands in her lap. "I can't imagine what he's referring to."

Zenigata nodded thoughtfully and glanced at each of them in turn. Alexis smiled drily at him, Elizabeth sniffed and turned up her nose, and Rebecca just looked bored. "Well," he said, rolling up the note and sliding it into his pocket, "I'll be back first thing in the morning with some of my men." He turned to Elizabeth and saluted. "I'm sure we can put your mind at ease about this, Lady Finch," he said.

"Thank you so much, inspector," Malcolm replied, standing. "I'll see you to the door." As the two men left the drawing room, Alexis stood up and moved to the window. She looked out over the lawn and tapped a fingernail against the glass.

"Don't do that, dear," Elizabeth said, finishing her tea.

The tapping stopped.

Rebecca yawned and pulled a book from behind her. She threw her legs over the arm of her chair and opened it, flipping to a dog-eared page. Alexis glanced at the cover and saw that it was yet another Gothic romance. Probably 'The Moon Howls At Midnight', or 'The Tragic Moors of Southampton', or something equally insipid. Alexis snorted softly and returned to her pointless vigil.

Malcolm returned a moment later. He and Elizabeth began to discuss Lupin's possible intentions, each of them trying to come up with items that could qualify as a precious possession. Apart from their murmuring voices and the occasional swish as Rebecca swung her leg against the arm of the chair, the room was silent.

As the minutes wore on, Alexis grew more and more furious. How dare Lupin invade The Hawthorns like this? It was almost certain that his note was the cause of her father's heart attack. Alexis didn't much like her father, and she didn't much like The Hawthorns, but for pity's sake! Was a little privacy too much to ask?

And Jigen! So that's why he'd been poking around last night. Alexis snorted again. She was so smitten with him, she completely failed to recognise his ulterior motive. Well, if he showed up tonight, she'd give him a piece of her mind.

Alexis pressed her fingernails to the window and slowly dragged them down the stained glass pane. The others looked over at her, protesting loudly.

"For God's sake, Lex!" Rebecca cried, holding her hands over her ears.

"Alexis! Stop that this instant!" Elizabeth snapped.

"Lexi, please," Malcolm said, wincing painfully.

Alexis blinked and looked around. "Oh!" She blushed slightly. "I'm sorry," she said, dropping her hand. "I was lost somewhere." She felt as though the entire room were frowning at her. "I think I'll... go for a walk," she finished. She grabbed her coat from the hall closet and escaped into the fresh evening air.


	10. Sibling Rivalry

Alexis started up the path that wound around the west side of the house. Her head was down, and she was lost in thought, so it was several minutes before she heard the footsteps behind her. She stopped and turned.

"So. You came back," she said, her voice tight.

Jigen walked towards her. "I told you I would," he said. He was just finishing a cigarette. "What was Pops doing here?" he asked, crushing the butt under his heel.

Alexis lifted her chin and turned away. "You should know," she said coolly.

Jigen looked up. "Huh?"

"I've seen the note," Alexis snapped. Jigen frowned and tilted his hat back on his head. "Lupin sent you, didn't he?" she continued, looking at him over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. "He just couldn't resist sticking his nose into my family's business." She took a step towards Jigen, her fists clenched. "Thought you could charm me into revealing father's most precious possession, eh?" she said. Jigen stared at her, shaking his head. "You thought _so_ badly of me in Italy, insisting that I was just out to betray you, and now you're here on his behalf, just so you can use me to --"

Jigen grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, leaned in, and kissed her full on the mouth. Alexis was too startled to resist.

"I'm not here for him," Jigen growled, breaking the kiss. "I'm here for me."

Alexis blinked in surprise. "You what? If this is a wind up, Daisuke Jigen, I'll --"

Again, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, effectively shutting her up. For a moment, she let herself drown in his kiss, before gently pushing him away.

"Lupin doesn't know I'm here," Jigen said. His grip on her shoulders had eased somewhat, but he still held her firmly.

Alexis laughed weakly. "Oh, he knows." She took a deep breath. "He's not stupid, Jigen. He knows."

Jigen shook his head. "He can't know," he insisted. "Lupin is in Beirut with Fujiko. Probably buying more friggin' gadgets."

"What?" Alexis whispered.

"I came to England on my own," Jigen said. He released her, and she absently rubbed her left shoulder. "I told you last night, angel: I have some business to take care of in London. That's the reason I'm here." He pulled a wrinkled cigarette from his breast pocket. "It's not like Lupin and I are friggin' married," he muttered around the filter. His lighter flared. "We _do_ work independently, you know."

Alexis stared at him. "Well then, who left the note?"

Jigen inhaled deeply and snapped his lighter closed. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said, sliding the silver Zippo into his pocket.

"The note in my father's study," Alexis said. Her expression had gone from angry to confused. "It was signed 'Lupin the Third'. It said that he was going to steal my father's 'most precious possession' by the end of the month." Alexis shook her head, completely at a loss. "The family is in a tizzy trying to figure out what that might be."

Jigen shrugged and pulled the cigarette from his lips. "I can't help you there, angel," he said. "That doesn't sound like Lupin. He's usually a lot more specific." He looked up at the house. "Someone's watching us," he murmured.

Alexis glanced over her shoulder in time to see Rebecca drop the drawing room curtain. "Ah, yes," she said, rummaging for her pack of Lambert & Butler and knocking one into her palm. "Rebecca, my little sister." She smiled as Jigen lit her cigarette. "She'll be stealing you away from me today," Alexis added. She started back down the footpath, turning towards the topiary.

Jigen looked surprised. "What?" He strode after her.

"It's sort of like sister worship," Alexis said, "with a healthy dose of sibling rivalry." She blew smoke into the air and watched it waft away in the late summer breeze. "What I have, she wants, and if she can't have it, she destroys it." Alexis smiled faintly. "She reminds me a little of Fujiko, only not so disciplined."

Jigen spit onto the grass. "Well, shit," he said, his voice tinged with disgust.

Alexis chuckled softly. "She'll try her damnedest to seduce you. And she's very, very good." Ash fell from her cigarette as she tapped it with a well-manicured nail. "She's had our father wrapped around her finger for years."

Jigen glanced over his shoulder at the house. The drawing room curtain was now closed. "I didn't get a good look at her, but from what I did see, she sure didn't look much like you," he said dubiously.

"We're half-sisters," Alexis explained, as they approached the topiary. "She inherited her looks from her mother. Unfortunately, she inherited everything else from my father."

"Her mother?" Jigen followed Alexis to a wrought-iron bench next to a broken sundial.

Alexis nodded and sat down. "Mm-hm. My father believes, like most of our Kings, that it's a man's responsibility to have mistresses." She leaned back and smiled at Jigen as he settled on the bench beside her. "He's usually very careful, but this time..." She shrugged eloquently.

Jigen raised an eyebrow. "So, where is she now?" he asked.

"She died giving birth to Rebecca," Alexis said softly. She sighed. "I quite liked her, actually. I could talk to her about everything. It was like having an older sister."

"A mistress for the baronet and tattoos for his kids," Jigen said, lowering his hat over his eyes and stretching his arms out along the back of the bench. "You got a strange friggin' family, angel."

Alexis laughed lightly. "I won't dispute that," she said wryly.

They smoked in silence for a moment, listening to the birds twittering in the neatly-trimmed bushes and carefully-stunted trees. Finally, Jigen leaned forward, resting his left ankle on his right knee. "So, what's the story with the note?" he said, dropping his cigarette butt into the dirt.

Alexis shook her head. "I can't believe I fell for it," she said, inwardly chiding herself. "Even Inspector Zenigata thought it was too far removed from Lupin's usual style."

Jigen looked over at her. "Yeah, what's that about, anyway? Who called in the Old Man?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Father's solicitor, Malcolm Smythe," Alexis said. She lifted her foot and scraped the ember from her spent cigarette. "I guess the firm thought that the inspector was the best choice for the job," she added, dropping the dead filter.

"I don't know if I'd call him the best at anything," Jigen muttered. "But him being here is going to make it a hell of a lot tougher to find out what's really going on." He straightened and squinted into the distance. "So, what _is_ your father's most prized possession?" he asked.

Alexis shrugged helplessly. "I haven't the faintest idea," she said. "You might just as well ask me what music my sister listens to now, or what colour nail varnish my mother wears. It's been eight years since I was last here." She sighed again. "I am seriously out of touch with this family."

Jigen frowned. "Someone's coming," he said quietly, nodding at a tall, willowy figure walking towards them from the back of the house.

Alexis raised her head and looked down the path. "Mm-hm," she said. "That will be Rebecca." She took a deep breath. Without looking at Jigen, she blurted out, "Look, if you give in to her, I won't hold it against you." Jigen made a strangled sound, and she glanced over at him. "I mean, I won't blame you. You're not beholden to me or anything," she continued awkwardly. Jigen lifted the brim of his hat and stared at her. "Rebecca is very good at what she does," Alexis added, by way of explanation.

Jigen snorted softly. "You're kidding, right?" he said.

Alexis shook her head. Her face was serious. "Stronger men than you have fallen, Daisuke," she said.

"Yeah, well," he said wryly. "We'll see."

"Just take what she says with a grain of salt," Alexis murmured, as her sister drew closer. "And don't let her steal your heart. She'll tear it out, light it on fire, and laugh while it burns."

The two of them stood as Rebecca approached the sundial.

"There you are," she said, nodding to Alexis. "Mum wants to see you." She turned to Jigen and smiled brightly. "Hello, there."

Jigen nodded at her and pulled his hat lower over his eyes.

"Why didn't she send Butler?" Alexis asked.

Rebecca shrugged. "I suppose he couldn't find you," she said. "But I knew you were here." She looked slyly at Jigen. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Lex?"

Alexis smirked. "Of course. Jigen, this is my little sister, Becca."

Rebecca's green eyes flashed with anger. "Don't call me that," she snapped. "I'm not twelve anymore."

"Ah, yes. Sorry," Alexis said, in mock contrition. "Jigen, I'd like you to meet my sister, Rebecca."

Rebecca smiled coyly. "Well, I don't know how much 'liking' enters into it, but..." She turned to Jigen. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Jigen."

Jigen eyed her carefully. "Hi, kid. Nice to meet you," he said with studied nonchalance.

Alexis smiled inwardly as she caught the almost imperceptible tightening of her sister's expression. He'd called her a kid, and it stung. Still, Rebecca was careful not to show it.

"Why, you're an American!" she said with forced cheerfulness. "How exotic. Where are you from, Mr Jigen?"

Jigen shrugged eloquently. "I get around," he said. "And it's just 'Jigen'."

Rebecca tossed her long, white-gold hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She turned to Alexis. "Why don't I show Mr Ji... sorry, _Jigen_," she amended, dimpling at him, "around the grounds while you go and see what mother wants?"

Alexis glanced over at Jigen, who touched his finger to a notch in the brim of his hat. The implication was obvious: _I've got her in my sights_. Alexis smiled impishly and looked at her sister. "That's very kind of you, Rebecca," she said. Turning to Jigen, her smile grew gentle. "I'll catch up with you later, Jigen." With a little wave, Alexis headed down the path towards the house. She could hear Rebecca's sultry voice over her shoulder.

"Let me show you the aviary, Jigen," she was saying, as they moved off down the path.


	11. The Lie

"You wanted to see me, mother?" Alexis said, returning to the drawing room.

Elizabeth looked up from the papers that she'd been studying, and frowned. "No," she said, looking quizzically at Alexis. "Malcolm and I are going over some things that cannot wait until your father comes home."

Alexis sighed. Shame on her for falling for her sister's lie. She hadn't expected Rebecca to go quite this far in order to get what she wanted.

"All right, mother," Alexis said, turning to leave.

"Oh, Alexis," Elizabeth said, holding up a hand. "There is one thing you might do for me." Alexis looked over her shoulder. "You haven't seen anyone strange around the estate in the last few days, have you?"

Alexis blinked at her mother. "I don't think so," she said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Well, I do admit that I'm something of a homebody, and Rebecca rarely leaves her room. You've been out and about more than either of us in the last couple of days." She sighed heavily. "I'd just hoped," she said wistfully.

Alexis was starting to see her mother with new eyes. She smiled warmly at the older woman. "If I think of anything, I'll certainly let you know," she said, nodding. "And if I see anyone, I'll bring it to your attention immediately."

Elizabeth looked relieved. "Thank you, dear," she said, and Alexis had to bite back her surprise. Her mother had never thanked her for anything.

The moment faded, and Elizabeth returned to the collection of papers on the coffee table. Alexis quietly left the room and headed for the stables. She'd pick up a couple of horses and ride out to the aviary. Perhaps she could catch up with Rebecca and Jigen before her sister managed to work her lies on him, as well.


	12. Ladykiller

Halfway to their destination, Rebecca was getting nowhere with Jigen. He was the most infuriatingly dense person she'd ever known. Her coy looks, fluttering lashes, and occasional touches seemed to fly completely over his head. Rebecca was beginning to wonder if he preferred men, or if he was just stupid.

They passed by the gazebo and headed towards the rotunda that housed the aviary. As a last, desperate attempt, Rebecca glanced down at his belt and said, "Why, Jigen. Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just enjoying our walk?"

Jigen looked over at her. "It's a gun," he said matter-of-factly, flashing the revolver at his waist.

"Oh, my," Rebecca said, taken aback. "And what a big gun it is," she purred, recovering quickly. "Do you often have occasion to fire it off?"

Jigen tilted his head, glancing at her from under his hat. "I don't draw it very often," he said, his voice serious. "But when I do, I never miss."

Rebecca smiled archly. "You must be quite the lady-killer," she said as they stepped into the massive rotunda.

"Yeah, I've killed a few in my time," Jigen said, without a trace of irony. He looked around the dome. "So this is where your father keeps his birds, huh?"

Rebecca eyed him warily. "Most of them, yes," she said. "We have a mews as well. Father likes to hunt." Her chin started to quiver. "Well, he liked to hunt," she said, as a tear trickled down her cheek.

Jigen tilted back his hat and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I'm, uh, really sorry about your dad," he began, then blinked and froze as Rebecca hurled herself against his chest.

"I'm so worried about him!" she wailed, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. "And it's all Lupin's fault!"

"Uh..." Jigen swallowed thickly. "Lupin?" he said, trying to extricate himself from her embrace.

"He's a perfectly horrible thief," Rebecca sobbed, her tears soaking into Jigen's jacket. "He says he's going to steal daddy's most precious possession." She raised her head and gazed at Jigen with liquid, sea-green eyes. "I can't imagine what that could be," she added, biting her lip in that way she knew men found most appealing.

Jigen squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, your dad's pretty rich," he said, finally pulling away. "It could be anything."

Rebecca shook her head vehemently. "Oh, I'm certain that Lupin didn't mean a mere trinket," she insisted. "It must be something more important than that. Why, it might even be a person!" she said, gasping softly.

"It might, at that," said a dry voice from behind them.

Rebecca whirled to face Alexis. Her eyes narrowed.

"After all," Alexis continued, approaching her sister, "mother IS the most important thing in father's life, wouldn't you say?" Rebecca glared at Alexis, who turned to Jigen and smiled. "Still interested in some Skeet?" she asked, holding up her holstered Walther.

"Damned straight," Jigen said. The relief on his face was obvious.

"Then we should get at it before the light fades." She nodded to her sister. "Thanks for entertaining him, Rebecca," Alexis said. The look in her eye suggested that 'entertainment' was exactly what Rebecca had provided.

"Bye, kid." Jigen tossed the words over his shoulder as he and Alexis fled the rotunda. Outside, two horses waited patiently for them. Alexis pointed Jigen towards the black.

"Take that one," she said, mounting her roan. "I didn't know what your riding skill was like, so I tried to play it safe."

"I can manage," Jigen muttered, throwing himself into the saddle. "Just get me away from her."

Alexis' laughter sparkled in the air as the two of them left the footpath and galloped across the grounds. Rebecca stepped out of the rotunda and glared after them, then spun on her heel and headed for the house.


	13. Realisation

They let their horses run wild for about twenty minutes before slowing them to a walk. Alexis pulled up beside Jigen and they both caught their breath.

"Having a little trouble with Rebecca, were you?" Alexis said, smiling mischievously. She'd tucked her Walther into her belt. Shooting clays wasn't really on the agenda for the evening.

Jigen shook his head and tilted back his hat with his thumb. He swore softly. "She's a piece of work, isn't she?" he said, looking over at Alexis.

Alexis nodded. "Now you see what I meant," she said, tugging gently on her horse's reins and bringing him to a halt at the edge of the brook. "She has a lot of tricks, and she isn't shy about using them."

Jigen pulled out a cigarette and leaned forward in the saddle. "You said that she's got your father wrapped around her finger, right?" he said, lighting up.

"Yes," Alexis said, nodding again. She tied the reins loosely around a slender tree trunk. "It's been going on since she was thirteen."

"And just how much does he value your sister?" Jigen said. He watched Alexis crouch down next to the brook. She dipped her hands into the clear water and splashed some on her cheeks.

Alexis shrugged. "Highly," she said, drying her face on her sleeve. "My brother joined the SIS, and I became a chocolatier. Rebecca is the only child left who could take over father's business." She glanced up at Jigen. "And she knows it well. Why do you ask?"

"It was what she said in the aviary." Jigen looked at Alexis. "Remember? She said that the precious possession might be a person."

"Oh, my God." Alexis gasped, and a hand flew to her mouth. "I've seen him."

Jigen frowned. He stuck his cigarette between his lips and dismounted. "What the hell are you talking about?" he said.

"At the old mill," Alexis said, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Oh, how could I have been so thick? It was staring me in the face all day, and I completely missed it!"

Jigen leaned against the tree where Alexis had tied her roan. He shook his head. "Slow down, angel," he said. "Slow down, and start from the beginning."

Alexis looked up at him. "I overheard Rebecca on the phone yesterday," she said, and told Jigen about the old mill, her sister's meeting, and the dark man named 'Wolf'. Halfway through the story, Jigen was grinning. By the end, he was laughing.

"So he's a punk kid, trying to get into your sister's pants?" he said, spitting at the ground between his feet.

Alexis wrinkled her nose. "There has to be more to it than that," she said, looking thoughtfully at the sky. "Not to sound peevish, but Rebecca isn't exactly the catch of the day. Unless you consider that she comes with bags of money attached to her like ornaments on a Christmas tree." Alexis stood up and turned to Jigen. "Then she becomes a whole lot more attractive."

Jigen nodded slowly. "So it's all about the money," he said. His cigarette hissed as he took a final drag. "That puts a different spin on things. And when Lupin finds out about this, he's gonna be pissed."

"Why would anyone pretend to be Lupin?" Alexis said.

Jigen shrugged. "Trying to impress your sister?" he suggested.

Alexis shook her head. "Rebecca's impressionable, but I can't imagine she'd even know the name 'Lupin'."

"If we knew who the guy really was, we'd have a better chance of unravelling this one," Jigen said. "Whatever his game, he obviously doesn't know I'm in town. That should make this a bit easier."

"'This'?" Alexis echoed, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Jigen folded his arms across his chest. "You don't expect me to just sit back and let this dumb shit pretend to be Lupin, do you?" He snorted. "As soon as the boss gets here, we'll take the bastard down."

"Can you contact him?" Alexis asked.

"There are ways," Jigen said. He clasped his hands behind his neck, tilting his hat over his eyes. "If I get to it in time, he can probably be here by tomorrow morning." Peeking at Alexis from under the brim, he added, "That should be soon enough."

"I hope so," Alexis said, moving to untie her horse's reins. "Inspector Zenigata is bringing his men to the house at first light. The estate will be heavily guarded."

"Don't worry about that," Jigen said. He walked over to his horse and gently rubbed its nose. The black whinnied softly. "Lupin can't resist a challenge, and he thrives on situations like this." He put his foot into a stirrup and threw himself into the saddle.

Alexis mounted her horse in one smooth motion. "I'll be in the topiary at ten o'clock tonight," she said, as they turned away from the brook. "If you manage to contact Lupin, meet me there. If you don't manage it," she said, her eyes darkening, "God help us all."


	14. Eavesdropping

After supper, the family scattered. Elizabeth and Malcolm retired to Sir Nigel's office, Rebecca retreated to her bedroom, and Alexis stationed herself in the kitchen. Over Chantal's protests, she picked up a cloth and started washing the supper dishes.

"Miss, you can't _do_ that," Chantal said, pleading with Alexis. "If Lady Finch sees you, she'll have kittens!"

Alexis smiled to herself. "I need to do some thinking, Chantal," she said, "and this is my way." She stopped the washing-up and looked over her shoulder at the flustered maid. "Look, why don't you go and... relax. Or..." Alexis frowned slightly. "Do whatever it is you do when you're not at my mother's beck and call."

"There is no such time," Chantal said firmly. She lifted Alexis' hands from the soapy water and reached for a tea towel. "Now you dry your hands and leave this to me. I could get into such trouble!"

Alexis sighed. She really wasn't in the mood for a tug-of-war with the staff, and Chantal was right: if Elizabeth knew about this, there'd be hell to pay.

"All right, all right," Alexis said, wiping her hands on the towel and tossing it onto the counter. "Have it your way." She sighed again and headed upstairs. Maybe she could find a book to stare at while she tried to decide what to do about her sister.

Walking past Rebecca's room, Alexis couldn't help hearing her voice through the closed door.

"Tonight?" Rebecca was saying. Alexis held her breath leaned in, listening. "Yes, I can meet you. The same time?" There was a pause, and then, "No, mum doesn't suspect a thing, and Lex is busy with her gay American friend." Alexis nearly laughed aloud. "Oh, I love you too, Wolfie," Rebecca gushed, and then came the sound of the receiver being replaced.

Alexis moved quietly along the corridor and headed towards the back of the house, to Stephen's old room. He may not have come home in twenty-five years, but there was something that her older brother could do to help, even in absentia.


	15. Nothing Ever Changes

The night was clear and moonless, which suited Alexis perfectly. The manicured bushes in the topiary wore their shadows in a way that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Too many horror films, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes. She approached the sundial in the centre of the garden and touched it lightly with one gloved hand. No matter how foolish it seemed, the sundial had always been her anchor, even when she'd been a little girl. She remembered a night when she'd run out here in her bare feet, her twelve-year old heart pounding, clutching the sundial like a lifeline...

The smell of cigarette smoke wafted under her nose, and she smiled to herself. Turning, she saw Jigen lounging on the iron bench, cigarette in hand and hat angled over his eyes.

"You're here," Alexis said, moving to sit beside him. "Did you manage to reach Lupin?"

Jigen nodded. "Yeah," he said. "He's not too happy about the whole impersonation thing."

Alexis waited until Jigen had taken another puff of his smoke, then plucked the smouldering cigarette from his fingers. "I can't say I blame him," she said, taking a long drag and handing it back to him.

"...and he wants to know what your sister looks like," Jigen added.

"Lecherous sod." Alexis spat into one of the flowerbeds. "He can get stuffed."

"Heh." Jigen tilted his hat back and grinned wickedly at her. "As much as I agree with you, it's not what you think. I got the impression he was trying to put together a disguise."

"Thank God," Alexis said, shaking her head. She reached into her pocket and produced a slim wallet. "If Lupin ever got his hands on Rebecca, the universe might implode."

Jigen chuckled. "Either that, or they'd cancel each other out."

Alexis rummaged in her wallet and extracted a photograph of her sister. "My mother sends me one every year," she explained. "I don't know why I carry it around. All it does is remind me of my lost youth, and why I don't visit more often." She handed the photo to Jigen. "Here. He can have this."

"Yeah," Jigen said, slipping the picture into his jacket. "You're a real crone, all right."

Alexis laughed, tucking her wallet back into her jacket. "That's rich, coming from someone who's probably long past the big fou--"

"Can it, sister." Jigen chuckled again and finished his cigarette. He studied her for a moment. She was dressed all in black, as usual, but her clothes were more form-fitting, and she was wearing soft leather gloves. "You look like you're on a job," he said.

Alexis nodded. "I overheard Rebecca tonight. She's meeting this new 'Lupin' at the mill. Care to come along?"

"You sure you don't mind the company?" Jigen asked, standing.

"Not at all," Alexis said, "as long as YOU don't mind a simple surveillance gig. You can carry the camera." She pulled something from her pocket that looked like a lighter, and tossed it to him.

"Nice," he said, looking it over as they started off. "Taking lessons from Lupin?"

"It belonged to my brother, actually," Alexis said. She zipped up her cotton jacket. "He was obsessed with gadgets."

"Yeah, that sounds like Lupin."

"Yes," Alexis said, "except for the fact that he and Stephen are on opposite sides of the law."

Jigen looked pointedly at her.

Alexis shook her head vehemently. "No, he doesn't know what I do in my spare time. At least," she said thoughtfully, "I don't think he knows. My brother always was too bright for his own good, though."

"How did you start?" Jigen asked as they left the boundaries of the estate.

"I blame Stephen, actually," Alexis said with a light laugh. "We both had a passion for this sort of work, but he was always something of a white knight." She smiled with her eyes. "And I was his little sister; I just _had_ to be different." She glanced at Jigen. "What about you? How did you start?"

"Working for the Mafia," Jigen said, pulling his hat down over his eyes. "New York, Chicago. I was just a kid. But I was good." He buried his hands in his pockets.

"You still are," Alexis said softly.

Jigen tossed her a half-smile. "I got into some trouble at the end, there."

"Ah," Alexis said. "So you're running."

Jigen nodded.

"That explains a great deal," Alexis said. She climbed over a burned and shattered tree trunk. They were getting close.

Jigen frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Alexis held a finger to her lips. "We're almost there," she said quietly. She pointed to the shell of the old grain mill. There was a soft glow from the interior, and they could hear voices. The two of them crept slowly towards the nearest entrance..

"You're late." The speaker had a heavy Scottish accent.

Reflexively, Alexis looked at her watch. It was just after eleven.

"Sorry, boss." The second voice was English. From Liverpool; the accent was unmistakable. "But there's been a major cock-up."

Jigen motioned to Alexis. He was crouched next to a jagged hole in the stone wall. She made her way silently towards him, then briefly peeked through the hole. Pressing her back to the wall, she nodded at Jigen. At the centre of the ruins was the dark man who'd met her sister the night before. He was sitting on a pile of rocks next to the remains of the mill's stairs, which now led nowhere. Standing next to him was a heavy-set man wearing a bomber jacket and blue jeans.

"What is it now?" the dark man said testily.

"One of Lupin's partners was seen in London today," the heavy man grumbled.

Jigen and Alexis looked at each other.

"Shit," Jigen whispered.

"That's going to throw a spanner in the works," Alexis murmured.

The dark man growled. "And Lupin? What about him?"

His partner made a non-committal sound. "No idea," he said.

"Damn. We'll have to move up our plans."

Jigen rose from his crouch, camera in hand. He aimed, shot, and returned to his position in one swift movement. Glancing across the hole at Alexis, he nodded once. She held up two fingers, and he nodded again.

There was a shuffling noise, and the heavy man spoke. "Does the girl know what to do?"

"Aye. She'll have the combinations for both safes." It sounded as though the dark man was smirking. "She trusts me completely."

Jigen got off a second shot with the camera as the heavy man chuckled.

"What will you do with the girl once you've got the money?"

The dark man snorted. "She's useless to me. Lupin can take the blame for her unfortunate demise."

Alexis' eyes darkened. She didn't know whether she was more angry because her sister was in danger, or because this Scottish pillock was going to pin his crimes on Lupin. She clenched her fists in fury.

Jigen looked over at her. "Cool it, angel," he whispered.

A flashlight shone just outside the ruins. "Here she comes," the dark man muttered. "Get lost."

There was a crunching sound as the heavy man moved away. A moment later, Alexis and Jigen could hear Rebecca's voice.

"Wolf?" she said cautiously. "Is that you?"

"_Mon amour_." The heavy Scottish accent changed to the awful French accent that Alexis had heard the night before. "I am so glad you're here. Everyt'ing is prepared."

Alexis shifted slightly so that she could see through the hole in the wall. Rebecca had thrown herself into the dark man's arms, and he was stroking her white-gold hair.

"Oh, yes, Wolf!" Rebecca said, gazing up at him with adoration. "Only three more days until we can be together!"

The dark man shook his head. "_Non_,_ chérie_; I can wait no longer." He pressed his lips to hers, and she moaned softly under his touch. "I will come for you tomorrow night," he said, breaking the kiss.

Rebecca shook her head. "It's too dangerous! A horrible Asian man from the ICPO will have policemen all over the estate tomorrow." Jigen stifled a laugh as Rebecca clung to her lover. "Give me time to get rid of them. I'm sure I can convince him to leave."

The dark man hesitated, but shook his head. "_Non_," he said. "Never. I will not leave you in that terrible place a moment longer."

"Oh, Wolf," Rebecca said, nearly swooning.

Alexis started to shake, her stomach twisting with disgust. Sliding down the wall, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the stone. Jigen looked at her with concern.

"You okay, angel?" he murmured.

Alexis ignored him. Questions screamed in her mind: what was the dark man planning to do to her sister? Could she stop him? Did she even _want_ to? Wasn't Rebecca getting exactly what she deserved?

His voice grated in her ears. "Expect me at your window at one o'clock," he said to Rebecca. "Be ready for me, _mon amour_, and together we shall fly from this place."

"Yes, yes; a thousand times, yes!" Rebecca cried. "I'll be counting the hours!" Her footsteps retreated.

There was a long pause, and then a deep chuckle. "You always did have a way with the ladies, MacGregor."

Alexis' eyes flew open, and she looked sharply at Jigen. He nodded slightly.

The dark man -- MacGregor -- snarled. "Stupid oaf," he snapped. "I told you to call me 'Lupin'. If we don't stick to the masquerade at all times, there's no telling when one of us might slip." He didn't seem to feel the need to take his own advice; the counterfeit French accent had been dropped in favour of his heavy Scottish brogue.

"Right," the heavy man said. He grunted as he lifted something heavy. "See you here tomorrow night, then?"

"Yes," the dark man said. The light wavered and moved as the men left the mill. "Bang on at half twelve. And don't be late this time."

Alexis held up one finger, and then formed a zero with her forefinger and thumb. Jigen nodded and settled in for the ten minute wait. He pulled a smoke from his pocket and lit it, then tilted his hat over his eyes and leaned against the wall.

Alexis did what she could to calm her pounding heart. All she could think of was Rebecca -- how stupid and childish could she be? Was her life so sheltered that she could fall for a ridiculous ploy like this? Alexis snorted softly. Apparently, the one thing Rebecca hadn't inherited from their father was his brains.

Alexis glanced at her watch, then stood up and nudged Jigen's foot with her own. He lifted the brim of his hat and looked up at her.

"All ready?" he said, speaking around his cigarette.

Alexis nodded brusquely.

Jigen followed her as she picked her way over rocks and wood. When they reached the edge of the mill yard, he spoke.

"Look, angel, I..."

Alexis shook her head. "Get those photos developed. Give them to Lupin." Her voice was like ice. "Find out who this bastard is."

Jigen took a deep breath. "Don't do anything stupid," he said, dropping his exhausted smoke and grinding it under his heel.

Alexis turned her back to him.

Jigen growled softly, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him. "I said, don't do anything stupid." He glared at her. "If you tip our hand, we lose the element of surprise, and we're screwed."

They locked eyes for a long moment. Alexis' blazed with fury; Jigen's held a warning. Finally, Alexis looked away. She nodded.

"All right." Jigen lifted her chin with one hand. "Can I trust you?" he asked.

Alexis raised one eyebrow. "You don't trust anybody," she said.

Jigen smiled faintly. "It's what keeps me safe," he said.

"It's what keeps you alone," Alexis shot back. Jigen dropped his hand from her shoulder as though he'd been burned. "Nothing's changed, has it?" Alexis said with a wry smile.

Jigen's eyes darkened, and he lowered the brim of his hat. "Nothing ever changes, angel," he said, looking towards the road.

Alexis tossed her head angrily. "You're a complete prat, Jigen," she snapped.

Jigen looked down at her and grinned wickedly. "Don't hold back, sweetheart. Tell me how you really feel about me." He chuckled and started to walk away. Her voice came soft behind him.

"If I did, would it make a difference?"

Jigen froze.

Alexis stepped up to him. She touched his shoulder, her leather glove brushing smoothly against his silk suit. "It wouldn't, would it?" she said.

He shook his head. "Probably not."

Alexis laughed. "Then I shan't bother," she said. "It certainly wouldn't be to my benefit. In fact, all it would do is embarrass me." She pulled off her gloves and folded them neatly before tucking them into her pocket. "It's bad enough that I can't forget Naples, or New Orleans."

Jigen turned to look at her. "Hard things to forget," he said. His expression was serious.

"I'm sure you have a much easier time of it," Alexis said drily.

His voice was soft and low. "You have no idea," he said.

Alexis stared at him for a moment, then reached up and slid one hand into his hair. She pulled him towards her and pressed her mouth against his in a lingering kiss. There was no resistance.

"You don't want to know how I really feel about you, Daisuke," she whispered against his lips.

"I think I already know," he replied. He studied her face, his gaze travelling from her eyes to her mouth.

Alexis smiled archly. "Well, then; the ball's in your court, isn't it?" She pulled away from him and adjusted the zipper on her jacket. "Give my best to Lupin, will you?" she said, throwing the words over her shoulder as she headed towards the estate.

Jigen watched her go, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He knew how she felt, all right. He'd felt her in Naples and in New Orleans, and she'd felt damned good. And now? Hell, she wanted him, he wanted her -- and they both knew it. And he'd just stood there...

"Yeah," he mumbled to himself, pulling a fresh cigarette from his jacket. "You _are _a prat, Jigen."


	16. Cheshire Grin

The next morning, Inspector Zenigata arrived like a hurricane. His men spread out all over the estate, wandering around the grounds and inside the house with impunity. Elizabeth was unimpressed, but he was there for the good of her family, so she tolerated his presence -- and that of his men -- with quiet dignity.

Rebecca, on the other hand, was not taking things so well. She jumped at the slightest noise, and was constantly looking over her shoulder. When Butler dropped the sugar tongs at breakfast, Rebecca actually screamed. Alexis was more than happy to escape to the aviary after breakfast.

There was a man patrolling the path outside the rotunda, and Alexis rolled her eyes as she let herself into the building. The inspector might be taking things just a little too far, she thought to herself.

"'allo, miss."

Alexis turned to look at the officer who had followed her into the aviary. "Oh, for pity's sake," she said. "Who let you in here?"

The skinny man grinned as he approached her. "I 'eard there were some pretty fit birds 'ere," he said with a leer.

Alexis looked at him with disgust. "Get out, or I'll throw you out," she said, turning towards the bullfinch cage.

The man came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. A familiar voice whispered into her ear, "Now, you wouldn't want to do that, Bluebird. Think of the scandal."

Alexis clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. She looked over her shoulder. "Lupin," she said, "you're completely mad!"

Lupin stepped away from her and pulled off his mask. "Possibly," he said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "But if you want to be successful in this line of work, you sorta have to be." He leaned against a long stone table, and his grin faded. "I hear we have a problem," he said. His tone was serious.

"Yes." Alexis nodded. "Did Jigen get the photos to you?"

Jigen stepped out from behind a marble pillar. "Yeah," he said, lighting a cigarette, "and it turns out that this guy has more friggin' aliases than Lupin has disguises."

Alexis frowned. "So, are you saying that this is just a random coincidence? I don't believe in chaos theory," she said, picking up a bag of birdseed and going to one of the cages. The birds within it twittered with excitement as she reached for the latch.

"Yes, and no," Lupin said, hopping up onto the table, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. "Yes, it's a coincidence that he used my name; no, it's not a coincidence that he used my name." He looked thoughtful. "Uh..."

"Ouch," said Alexis. She stepped into the cage, closing the door behind her. Filling the various bird feeders, she said, "Could you be just a little more vague, please?"

Jigen produced one of the photos he'd taken the previous night. "Earnest MacGregor," he said, holding it up and showing it to Alexis. "Small-time con man. He's well known for using aliases. Obvious ones."

Alexis frowned and left the cage, then moved to the table and set down the bag of seed. She took the photo from Jigen and studied it.

"He's been a lot of people," Lupin said. He started ticking them off on his fingers. "Henri Lemoine, George Parker, William Thompson, Eduardo de Valfierno --"

Alexis looked up. "Wait. Wasn't Valfierno the bloke who stole the Mona Lisa?"

Lupin nodded. "Yep. This guy uses the names of famous thieves and con men as his aliases."

"That must be flattering," Alexis said drily. She handed the photo back to Jigen, who slid it into his breast pocket and drew on his cigarette. Lupin preened.

"Thing is, he usually picks guys who are already dead," Jigen said. He looked over at Lupin and blew a perfect smoke ring into the air. "Guess he's gettin' sloppy."

Lupin coughed. "There have been other names," he said, "but they're a little more obscure." He shrugged. "INTERPOL has been after him for years."

Alexis shook her head. "And he ended up in our little corner of the world." She snapped her fingers. "Wait a moment," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Wasn't there a con man named MacGregor? Some Scottish berk who claimed to be a descendant of Rob Roy?"

Lupin grinned at Jigen, who smirked around his cigarette. "She's quick, she is," Lupin said. "That's the guy. Looks as though ol' Earnest here might be his great grandson. Or... great great grandson. Or something." He frowned. "Anyway, it would seem he's trying to follow in the old man's footsteps."

"Charming," Alexis said. The sarcasm in her voice was palpable. "So, what do we do about it?"

"Oh, I have an idea," Lupin said, hopping off the table. He winked at Alexis. "How would you like to be fifteen years younger?" he asked.

"What?" Alexis looked confused for a moment, but then realisation dawned. "Oh, no," she said. "No no no no no. I can't pass for Rebecca! She has five inches on me, and I'm at least two stone heavier!" Alexis looked helplessly from Lupin to Jigen, and then back again. "What about Fujiko? She's much closer to Rebecca's build than I am."

Lupin stared uncomfortably at the ceiling. "Uh... Fujiko couldn't make it."

Jigen snorted and dropped his cigarette. "Too busy gettin' it on with some rich oil baron?" he said, grinding the filter into the floor.

Lupin stuck out his tongue. "It's all for a good cause," he said petulantly.

"I think the phrase rhymes with 'clucking bell'," Alexis grumbled. "How the devil are we going to pull this off?"

"Oh ye of little faith," Lupin said, draping his arm around Alexis' shoulder as she eyed him warily. "Trust me," he continued. The Cheshire grin was back. "I've got it all under control."


	17. Precious Possessions

At half-past midnight, Rebecca's window opened. She rolled over in bed, fully-dressed. In the moonlight, she could see a slender man crouching on the sill.

"Wolf?" she whispered.

"Your one and only," came a thick French accent. "Are you ready to come away wit' me, _mon petit chou_?"

"Oh, Wolf," Rebecca murmured. "I love it when you speak French to me." She sat up and clasped her hands together under her chin.

Wolf moved closer to the bed, sliding his arms around Rebecca and lowering his mouth to her ear. "_Tes lobes d'oreilles son commes des têtes de poissons_," he said, his voice husky. She swooned in his arms, and he lifted her from the bed. "Come, _mon amour_," he said. "We must leave t'is place."

Rebecca's eyes fluttered opened and she caught sight of the clock. "Why, you're early!" she said, surprise written on her face.

"I could not wait, _ma belle_," Wolf said, taking her hand and pulling to her feet. "Are you ready to fly, _mon poulet_?"

"Of course, Wolf," Rebecca said softly. "But we must be quiet. That horrid Inspector Zenigata has men everywhere." She grabbed two small bags from her closet, then opened the door to her room. Seeing no one in the hallway, she smiled over her shoulder. "This way," she said, and Wolf followed her out.

Rebecca led the way downstairs to her father's office. Several times, she and Wolf had to hide in closets or alcoves in order to avoid being seen by the patrolling police. Every time they were forced to take cover, Rebecca would cling to Wolf like a tragic heroine, and Wolf would stroke her hair and whisper soft nothings to her.

At last they were standing in front of a beautiful oil painting, depicting a male bullfinch sitting on a tree branch, singing to his mate. Rebecca felt around the left side of the frame and pressed a catch. The painting swung out towards them, revealing a small combination safe.

"Here it is," Rebecca said softly. She turned the dial once, twice, three times, and the safe popped open. She smiled at Wolf, who took the smaller bag from her and began to fill it. Stocks, bonds, jewellery, and a beautiful Fabergé egg in a red velvet pouch -- all of it went into the bag. Rebecca closed the safe and spun the dial.

"_Parfait_, _ma caille_," Wolf said. He kissed Rebecca on the cheek and patted her on the bum. She blushed prettily. "And the other?"

"Downstairs," she said, leading him out of the study. They dodged guards until they reached the pool room at the back of the house. Every sound was amplified here; Rebecca took off her shoes, and motioned for Wolf to do the same. In their stocking feet, they made their way to the northwest corner of the room, where Rebecca slid aside a panel in the marble wall. She touched a button hidden behind it, and a portion of the wall swung away to reveal a small, featureless room. They stepped inside, and Wolf tugged on the wall, closing it behind them.

"Soundproof," Rebecca said, giggling. "And you'd never know that behind there --" she pointed at the western wall "-- is the biggest safe for fifty miles." She stepped up and pressed a slightly discoloured spot. There was a soft 'woosh', and a small console appeared.

"Remarkable," Wolf breathed. Rebecca beamed at him over her shoulder and tapped a few keys. With silent precision, the wall shifted, and a door that had not been there previously slid smoothly open.

Wolf whistled softly. The safe was filled with more money, gold, and antiques than he'd expected. Rebecca clapped her hands softly and bounced into the vault, taking the large duffel bag with her. She bent over and started filling it with money, gold ingots, trays of exotic coins, and...

Wolf drew his gun and cocked it, pointing it at Rebecca. The sound bounced off the walls of the safe. Rebecca turned, her mouth open in surprise, as Wolf moved towards her. When he was just within reach, he picked up the bag she'd been filling, and started backing out of the vault.

"What are you doing?" Rebecca said hoarsely. She was staring at him in horror.

"Sorry, kid," Wolf said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. All traces of a French accent had disappeared. "You're not coming with me. It's been fun, though." He tossed the bag outside the vault and reached for the door with his free hand. "_Au revoir_." He slid the door closed as Rebecca rushed towards it.

"NO!" she screamed as the door rolled shut. "Let me out! Let me ou--"

The safe door clicked into place, and there was silence. The man with the Walther P-38 leaned against the wall and tore off his mask.

"Ugh," Lupin muttered to himself. "I feel positively dirty." He holstered his gun and looked at the ceiling. "I hope Jigen and Alexis are having a better time of it."


	18. You Ain't In Kansas

At one o'clock, Rebecca's window opened again.

"Rebecca, _mon amour_?" came a soft voice. A slender figure climbed over the sill and approached the bed, where a blonde woman lay under the covers on her side. "Rebecca, _chérie_; it is I, your Wolf. It is time to flee this wretched place." He reached out to roll her over, and came face-to-face with a pair of dark blue eyes and a loaded Walther P99. He gasped. "You're not Rebecca!" he whispered fiercely.

Someone pressed a Magnum against his temple and pulled the hammer back. The sound echoed loudly in MacGregor's head.

"Yeah, and you ain't in Kansas either, pal," Jigen said, biting down on his unlit cigarette. Alexis tore off her wig and crawled out from under the covers, her gun still trained on the intruder.

MacGregor looked at Jigen out of the corner of his eye. "Who are you?" he said.

Jigen lifted the brim of his hat with the barrel of his gun. "Don't tell me you don't recognise your partner, _Lupin_," he said. "And here I thought we were such damned good friends."

MacGregor glowered at them both as Alexis snatched a small travel bag from the closet and stuffed the wig inside. "Ugh," she said, "I feel positively dirty." She looked over at Jigen. "Don't ever let him talk me into doing that again."

Jigen grinned at her. "No promises, angel," he said. Gesturing at MacGregor with his revolver, he added, "So, what do we do with this piece of shit?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas," Lupin said, entering the room and gently closing the door. Jigen inclined his head in acknowledgement, and Alexis put one hand on her hip.

"You told Rebecca that her earlobes resembled _fish heads_?" she said, looking at him with mock disgust. "Honestly, Lupin; couldn't you have said something a little more suave?"

Lupin snickered. "Hey, _she _didn't seem to mind," he said, leering at Alexis. "Maybe you're just too high maintenance."

Alexis stifled a laugh. "Well, whatever you have in mind for this plonker, you'd better get to it," she said, nodding at MacGregor. "Inspector Zenigata's men are everywhere, and you don't have long before the estate patrol comes round to this side of the house again."

"Oh, we'll have him all fixed up faster than you can say '_mon amour_'." Lupin reached out and grabbed MacGregor by the collar. The con man's eyes widened in fear. "Now, stay still," Lupin said, grinning like a Cheshire cat as Alexis handed him the travel bag from Rebecca's closet. "This won't hurt a bit."


	19. The Importance of Catching Earnest

Alexis wrapped herself in her blue velvet robe, opened the door to Rebecca's room and took a deep breath. She paused for a moment, then wordlessly screamed the house down.

It had been Lupin's idea, though Alexis had fought it tooth and nail. She wasn't the screaming type, she insisted, but Lupin was equally stubborn. Of course, he won. She may not have been the screaming type, but she also wasn't the type to get into an argument in the middle of a ... whatever this ended up being.

Footsteps pounded, and Alexis stepped out into the hallway and pointed into the room. Six policemen stormed past her. Zenigata was hot on their heels.

"Ah-ha!" Zenigata cried, brandishing a pair of handcuffs at the unconscious man on the floor. "I have you now, Lupin! You're under arrest!"

In the darkness of the hallway, Alexis crossed her eyes. Shrewd? Probably. Gullible? Definitely.

The unconscious 'Lupin' was being carried out of the room on the shoulders of the six policemen, when Elizabeth and Malcolm appeared in the hall. They both looked into the room and gasped.

Admittedly, she might have gone just a bit too far, but Alexis had thoroughly enjoyed trashing Rebecca's room. Plastering a look of shock onto her face, she re-entered the room.

"I heard someone throwing things around in here," Alexis said, as Malcolm reached out to pat her shoulder. "And there he was. So I hit him with the lamp." She pointed to a pile of porcelain shards, topped with a lampshade. "He went down like a stone." Alexis shrugged helplessly. "But Rebecca wasn't here."

Zenigata turned to Elizabeth. "Lady Finch," he said urgently, "where does your husband keep his valuables?"

Elizabeth brought one hand to her mouth. "His office," she said, "and the vault." Her eyes widened, and she turned to bury her face in Malcolm's chest. The solicitor folded her in his arms and murmured some gentle words.

"To the office!" Zenigata shouted. Five more of his men had arrived, and they all raced down to Sir Nigel's study. When everyone was present, Elizabeth opened the wall safe. She gasped.

"Everything's gone," she cried. "Including my Fabergé egg!"

"That's Lupin, all right," Zenigata said, glowering into the empty safe. "He stole three of those Russian eggs from a museum in New Orleans last year."

Alexis coughed.

Once again, Zenigata turned to Elizabeth. "You said there was one more safe, Lady Finch?"

Elizabeth nodded weakly. "In the basement; the pool room," she clarified. She looked helplessly at Malcolm, who led her to Sir Nigel's leather desk chair. "Malcolm," she murmured, "could you please...? I don't think I can bear it." Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

Malcolm nodded. "Of course, Elizabeth," he said, reaching into his robe and pulling out a monogrammed handkerchief. Alexis hid a smile behind her hand. Yes, that was Malcolm Smythe; he probably had a bag of jelly babies or boiled sweets in his pocket, too.

One of the officers volunteered to stay with Elizabeth, while the others followed Malcolm downstairs to the pool room. Alexis trailed behind, more for the sake of completeness than from any real curiosity. Though she did derive just the tiniest bit of satisfaction from knowing that Rebecca was locked inside the vault.

Malcolm swiftly opened the hidden panel and pushed aside the wall. In the vault antechamber were two bags -- one held a large quantity of money; the other overflowed with jewellery, stocks, and bonds.

"It looks like Lupin didn't get away with the goods after all," Zenigata crowed. "Can you open the safe, Mr Smythe?" he asked.

Malcolm nodded, but his face was pale. Alexis felt badly for him as she watched him key in the code to the vault. The door slid silently open, and everyone except Alexis peered inside.

On the floor of the vault, sobbing in fear, was Rebecca. Malcolm rushed to take her in his arms.

"Poor dear," he said comfortingly, helping her rise to her feet. "It's all over now, Rebecca. It's all over."

As they exited the vault, Rebecca turned her tearstained face to Inspector Zenigata. She reached out and clutched at his overcoat.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her voice was little more than a croak; she'd most certainly torn something with her useless screaming. "Thank you, inspector."

Zenigata looked uncomfortable. "Of .. of course, miss," he said, bowing slightly to her. "It's okay; we've got him in custody now. He'll never bother you again."

The little gathering slowly climbed the stairs to Sir Nigel's office. Zenigata was carrying the two bags of loot. He dropped them on the floor next to the massive mahogany desk as Elizabeth rose and took a tearful Rebecca into her embrace. Malcolm poured two stiff brandies while Alexis leaned against the doorframe and watched the reunion with a jaundiced eye.

"Thank you, Inspector Zenigata," Elizabeth said softly, looking at him over Rebecca's bowed head. "You have been more helpful than I can say. If there is anything we can do to repay you --"

Zenigata shook his head. "All part of the job, ma'am," he said crisply. "It's my duty and pleasure to have been of assistance." He saluted her, then turned to his men. "All right, men," he called. "Let's get Lupin off to jail, and then the ramen is on me!" His men cheered as they filed out.

Inspector Zenigata was the last to leave the room. As he passed Alexis, the two of them locked eyes. Zenigata raised an eyebrow, and Alexis smiled faintly.

"Good luck, inspector," she said. "And congratulations." She looked at the ceiling with just a hint of exaggerated innocence.

Zenigata narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly to her, then turned and followed his men out of the house.


	20. The Lecture

Things had settled a little. No one seemed to want to leave the study; it was close and warm, and felt somehow 'safe'. Chantal came in and stoked a fire, though the weather didn't demand it. Butler assisted her briefly, then straightened.

"I'll prepare some tea," he said, and turned to leave. Alexis had been sitting at Rebecca's feet, but now she jumped up from the floor.

"No," she said. Everyone looked at her. "I'll do it. Rebecca," she added, turning to her sister, "why don't you join me?"

Rebecca looked up dully. She shook her head. "I don't want any tea."

"Oh, I think you do," Alexis said. Her voice and eyes were both flint-hard. She took Rebecca by the arm and led her out of the room.

"Leave me alone!" Rebecca said, struggling beside Alexis as the two of them headed to the kitchen. "What are you --"

"You stupid child," Alexis hissed. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get you out of this sordid mess?"

Rebecca stared at Alexis, too stunned to resist as her older sister pushed her down on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Your little con man wasn't who you think he was," Alexis snapped, as she filled the electric kettle with water. "He didn't have an estate in Bergerac, he hadn't planned to take you away with him, and he certainly wasn't Lupin the Third." She plugged the cord into the stove outlet and turned to Rebecca. "Hell, he wasn't even French!"

Rebecca blinked. Her voice sounded very, very small. "How did you --"

"Shut up and let me finish," Alexis growled. "I'm only going to say this once. And you'd better be bloody grateful when I'm done, or I'll knock you into next week."

All Rebecca could do was nod silently.

Alexis folded her arms across her chest. "I know you're not happy here. Mum and dad don't let you out because they don't want you straying too far from the Yellow Brick Road." She rolled her eyes. "They're disappointed in Stephen and me because we didn't fit the mould they cast for us, and they're trying to cram you into it as a last resort." She turned to the kettle, which had begun to whistle softly. "But you don't have to fit into it either."

Rebecca looked down at her hands. She nervously twisted her fingers together.

"The world won't end if you decide to be an artist or a shop clerk instead of a business tycoon, Rebecca," Alexis said, reaching for the silver teapot and dropping five tea bags into it. "Father's empire won't crumble. He's a resourceful man; he'll find some way to pass the business along." She unplugged the screaming kettle and poured boiling water into the teapot. Setting the kettle aside, she turned back to her sister. "You _do _have a choice, Becca. Let mum and dad send you to Oxford. Piss away your freshman year, just like everyone else does. Then you can decide what path your life's going to take."

Rebecca nodded slowly. Fresh tears began to well up in her eyes. Alexis walked towards her and kneeled on the floor beside her chair.

"Childhood is temporary," Alexis said, looking up at her sister, "and that's both a blessing and a curse. Take advantage of what you've got. When you decide that you don't want the burden anymore, you can do whatever the hell you want." She smiled wryly. "You're luckier than you know. Mum and dad might not support you, but they won't stop you, either."

Rebecca nodded again.

"That's the last time I'll lecture you, Becca." Alexis rose to her feet and took a tin of biscuits from the cupboard. "Now stand up, dry your tears, and be thankful that your 'horrid sister' interfered in your plans." She handed the tin to Rebecca, whose mouth was hanging open. "Your con man planned to kill you tonight. You can thank Lupin the Third -- the _real_ Lupin the Third -- for your life."

Picking up the tea service, Alexis started out of the kitchen, then stopped in the doorway. "And please," she said over her shoulder to Rebecca, "get rid of those stupid Gothic romance novels. They're not helping."


	21. Thanks For The Memories

The sun rose cautiously, as though not wanting to disturb the scene inside Sir Nigel's office. Elizabeth and Malcolm were huddled together, taking inventory of the items in the two canvas bags; so far, it appeared that the only thing missing was the Fabergé egg. Rebecca was sitting by herself in a corner, staring into her tea. Alexis had changed into slacks and a light sweater, and was pacing restlessly back and forth. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

"I'll be right back," she said. No one responded. She smiled to herself and left the house, pulling her coat from the hall closet on her way out the door.

The morning air was clear and clean. Alexis took a deep breath. Somehow, she'd expected it to be tainted by the night's affair. Shaking her head, she stepped onto the footpath that led to the topiary.

As she neared the centre of the garden, she caught sight of a dark red object resting on top of the sundial. There was a fluttering, too; a piece of paper, signed in an elegant, flowing script: Lupin the Third. Alexis picked it up, and the heavy object in the red velvet bag. The note read:

'Thought this might come in handy. Thanks for the memories. - L3'

Alexis opened the drawstring bag and looked inside. Her laughter rang through the garden, and she collapsed on the iron bench. It was her mother's Fabergé egg. The Russian client would be most pleased.

Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, she lifted her head and sniffed the air. Cigarette smoke. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jigen walking towards her from the far end of the garden. She smiled at him as he drew closer.

"You didn't go with him?" Alexis asked, as he sat down on the bench beside her.

Jigen shook his head. "He's headed back to Beirut. Poor bastard just can't stay away from Fujiko," he said with a wry smile.

"I guess not," Alexis said. "And do you still have business in London?"

Jigen nodded and drew deeply on his cigarette. The smoke drifted slowly in the still morning air. "Mm-hm. I'm here 'till Tuesday," he said with forced casualness.

"That's ... nice." Alexis fixed her gaze on the sundial. "And where are you staying?" she asked idly.

"The Ritz, on Piccadilly," Jigen said, in an off-hand sort of way.

They were doing a fine job of skirting the issue. "There's a very good pub near the Ritz," Alexis said. She folded Lupin's note and stuck it in her pocket.

Jigen lifted the brim of his hat and looked over at her. "How do you feel about being seen in public with a complete prat?" he said, grinning crookedly at her.

Alexis turned to face him. "I think I could survive the shame," she said. Her smile outshone the sun. "I'll buy, this time," she added, holding up the Fabergé egg in its red velvet bag. "I have a feeling I'm going to come into some money very, very soon."

* * *

-fin-


End file.
